


An Understanding

by SolarMorrigan



Series: Solar's 007 Fest 2019 [2]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: 007 Fest, Angst, Emotional Manipulation, M/M, but just in case, the Bond/Madeleine is mostly implied
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-02
Updated: 2019-07-02
Packaged: 2020-06-02 22:01:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19450357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SolarMorrigan/pseuds/SolarMorrigan
Summary: Bond and Q both understand the rules of the game. They know exactly what they're doing (don't they?)





	An Understanding

**Author's Note:**

> Day 2! This one acts as a fill for a prompt on the [anon exchange](https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1LwtIoqppLgPC3D0bJ5HF7ZcIJEnNgGmQcm21977FGJc/edit#gid=628702862): “the opposite of a SPECTRE fix-it: SPECTRE eff-it-up-even-more!” and as a fill for the free space on the [Angst Prompt Table](https://mi6cafe.wordpress.com/007-fest/007-fest-2019-prompt-tables/). I'm calling this space "Manipulation." Definitely warnings for... well, emotional manipulation
> 
> My editing abilities seem to take a dive in July, so if you spot any mistakes, feel free to point them out so I can fix them!

Bond could give Q the dignity of asking him for a favor as a friend; he could appeal to Q’s good sense and logic and trust that Q will come through for him – he could, but he doesn’t.

Trust is something Bond won’t—can’t—rely on anymore. He’s learned this painfully, time and again. So he takes the easier route; he corners Q in his office, crowds him against the door, kisses him oh-so-gently, and asks for his help.

“What – what did you have in mind?” Q asks, his voice hitching in the middle when Bond nips at the soft skin of his throat, just above the collar of his shirt.

Laving a little trail of kisses up Q’s neck, Bond leans to murmur in his ear, like it’s a sweet nothing: “Make me disappear?”

Q stills, goes rigid in a different way than Bond had been aiming for, but it’s no matter; Bond has cracked tougher cases.

“You know I answer directly to M,” Q reminds him, voice shaky as Bond redoubles his efforts, presses his hips to Q’s in a vague and dirty suggestion. “I also have – things. Things to pay for…”

Bond smirks, hides it in the soft spot beneath Q’s ear. “I need you to trust me, Q,” he says, just enough steel in his voice to make it more of a command than a suggestion.

He pulls back to look at Q, but his hands don’t leave his body; he shifts his palms from Q’s waist to his jaw, cupping his face gently with his thumbs on his cheeks. This touch isn’t one of lust; this one speaks of affection, of a different sort of need, and Bond milks it for everything it’s worth. “This is important. I wouldn’t ask you otherwise.”

There’s so much want, so much devotion shining in Q’s wide eyes that it almost hurts Bond. Something else sparks there—a bit of cynicism, the knowledge of what this must be, because Q’s a bright boy, he must know—before it’s mired down by the uncertain affection Bond was waiting for. “I suppose there might be a slight – hitch in the Smartblood program. Just at the start.”

Smiling, Bond leans in to kiss him, an enthusiastic and encompassing reward for his cooperation.

When Bond’s hands have trailed back down, down to Q’s waist, his hips, his arse, Q pulls back to stutter, “I can give you – can give you 24 hours.”

Bond smiles again, this one more knowing, as he stops sucking at Q’s neck and instead drops slowly to his knees, moving his hands to Q’s belt. “Oh, Q,” he practically purrs over Q’s choked ‘ _oh, god_ ,’ “we both know you can do better than that.”

Bond leaves the office a while later with 48 hours of invisibility in his pocket and the knowledge that Q gives as good as he gets even in areas other than their verbal sparring matches.

(There’s no need to feel guilt; they both know what this is, and what’s the harm in taking a little pleasure from your business?)

-/-/-

Q follows Bond to the clinic. That was neither part of the agreement nor part of the plan, but it works very nicely in Bond’s favor all the same. He could certainly use some of Q’s skills right now.

He waits out Q’s tirade and gleans the useful emotions from it: Q is worried about his job and he’s worried about MI6, but he’s also worried about Bond, and Bond can work with that.

“Do one more thing for me,” Bond says, pitching his voice into something reasonable, almost soothing. “Then you’re out.”

Q is still standing, still scowling, but he doesn’t say “no,” so Bond stands, too, presses himself into Q’s space and takes his hand.

“Find out what you can from this.” Bond places the ring in Q’s palm, dragging his fingers across Q’s own when he pulls his hand back.

Q inspects it with irritable interest and Bond waits, as thought he doesn’t know what the answer will be.

“This is it,” Q says as he looks up. “After this, I’m done.”

Bond wonders which of them he’s really talking to, but nods and rewards him with a pleased smile. “Thank you, Q.” Then, quickly, because he can see security shuffling in, “where are you staying?”

“Pevsner, room 12.”

“One hour,” Bond promises, and watches Q go before turning to deal with the chaos the clinic is descending into.

-/-/-

Bond thanks Q for his help and sends him home to London before heading off to find L’Americain with Madeleine.

She warms up to him, somewhere between tearing down the false wall of her family’s old favored hotel room and nearly getting killed on a speeding train, but does inquire once about Q.

“What about your Q?” she asks, and the phrasing gives him pause, almost.

_His_ Q. He has no doubt Madeleine saw the way Bond’s hand had rested on Q’s shoulder while Q had briefed him on his findings – the way he’d absently stroked his thumb against Q’s neck. Nor could she have missed how familiarly (possessively, perhaps, even if he hadn’t realized it) Q had stood to Bond as they spoke before parting ways.

_His_ Q.

He supposes it could be true, if he let it.

Bond shakes his head. “We both understand the rules of the game,” he says. “We can see when something is… mutually beneficial.”

For it to be true would be dangerous, and Bond won’t let it.

Madeleine doesn’t look entirely like she believes him at the time, but one near-death experience later, she doesn’t much seem to care.

-/-/-

“I thought you’d gone.” Q mostly sounds confused and exhausted, but there’s a nearly hidden undercurrent of hope that Bond picks up on – because he’s trained to be able to, because he’s spent enough time talking to Q to hear the little nuances in his voice.

He’s spent long enough around Q to learn all sorts of things about the man; the way he cares too much and sleeps too little, the way he takes his tea without milk because he never gets to it before it turns cold, the way he tells horrible jokes and speaks with sandpaper sarcasm – and whatever anyone may think of Bond, he’s not heartless. He’s just gotten very, very good at pretending to be.

So he does like Q. He does. But when Q’s crush on him had become apparent, Bond had recognized it for what it was and fostered it for all it could ever be: useful.

It has no use anymore, and Bond does what he knows is necessary.

“I have,” he says, and watches Q’s face fall, feels it almost like penance, “there’s just one more thing I need from you.”

After all, they both knew what this was from the start.

**Author's Note:**

> *nods sagely* Yep, I'm pretty sure I left it in worse shape than I found it
> 
> Also posted on [Tumblr](https://solarmorrigan.tumblr.com/post/186005352808/an-understanding-james-bond-00q-mentioned)! Come join the fun there if you like


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